That was the best day of my life
School days feel really long when you’re only 9 years old. When the end of school did finally arrive, book bags, lunchboxes and coats were frantically flying in the general direction of the exit. I, however, got to take a nice quiet stroll out of the staff exit. That sounds a lot more miraculous than it really was, in actual fact my mum worked at my school but at the time it felt like knowing a home time cheat code.
My mum was waiting for me in the small staff car park round the back of the school with her car keys in hand, her work lanyard dangling round her neck that read Communication Support Worker and a smile so big it lit up the car park, nevermind a room. Quite selfishly, I thought if mum’s in a good mood I might get some sweets from the post office on the way home – you must remember I was only 9 my world revolved around cartoons and sugar.
The conversation actually had nothing to do with sweets or the post office when we hopped in the car. It had everything to do with what I had been up to at play time. The caveat of having a mum that works at your school is that your mum often finds out what you got up to. I wracked my brain thinking what had possibly got back to mum, gave up and shrugged, “it was just tag.”
Just when I thought I was in deep trouble, I got a hug and my mum explained it wasn’t just tag. My school was a mainstream school and it was my mum’s job to support the deaf kids in classes using British sign language. One of those kids happened to talk to her about playtime that day, she said “it was the best day of my life.” I still didn’t understand what was going on, I was only a child at the time. Mum thankfully was a very patient woman and spelled it out for me – I’d taken the time to explain the rules of tag in BSL, so a girl in my class could join in and she was so happy she’d told the entire department.
Turns out, it wasn’t just tag
Lonely on the playground
Think back to the playground. Tag. Hide and seek. Duck, duck, goose…
These games just need kids, space, and a shared language. But what happens when there isn’t a shared language and there’s one child left on the sidelines?
In the UK, over 18 million adults have some form of hearing loss, and around 50,000 children are deaf. Of those, around 78% attend mainstream schools, like mine, where not everyone can speak BSL. That means every day, there are children surrounded by peers they can’t fully talk to.
BSL is the first or preferred language for over 25,000 people in the UK, and used regularly by more than 150,000. I think the number of regular users could do with a boost, don’t you?
Imagine if just a few more children in every class could sign. Imagine if teachers knew the basics. If lunchtime supervisors could say, “Do you want to join in?” with BSL! We don’t have to change the world, it just takes one small shift. One person trying. One game of tag. Learning BSL isn’t about helping deaf people, it’s about inviting people in – no one needs to be left out of the joke, the conversation or the game.
Access to communication isn’t a luxury, it’s essential.
Tag – You’re it!
You’ve heard my story and now, you’ve seen the numbers. So what’s next? It’s time to act! So what can you do to make an impact?
Learning BSL doesn’t mean becoming fluent overnight. It starts small:
✋ A single sign
👋 A greeting
🤝 A willingness to connect
Here’s how you can start tagging others in:
- Learn a few basic BSL signs: Even a handful (excuse the joke) like hello, thank you, or how are you. This can make someone feel seen and included.
- Take an introductory BSL course: Many are free or low-cost online. Signature can actually help you with this!
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Teach your kids: Children pick up sign fast. Imagine the ripple effect if every classroom had just a few confident signers.
- Be an advocate: Ask your school, workplace, or local centre if they’ve ever considered BSL workshops or deaf awareness courses.
- Follow and amplify Deaf voices: Support creators, educators, and activists who use BSL and share their experiences. A like or a share is easy to do!
Now you know why I think everyone should learn BSL! When you learn even a little bit of BSL, it’s not just language – it’s so much more than that, it’s space in the playground.
So, tag. You’re it.
Now go pass it on.